I've Got No Strings

"I've got no strings to-" he sang, practicing the dance in the mirror. Even after a full rehearsal, he was nervous that he might mess it up, so he was doing extra practice at home. Pinocchio was no small role! Try as he might though, he could not focus.


"Ugh, my feet go like this!" He did the move three times in quick succession to drive it home. "There!" He yelped as his left foot suddenly slid out from under him. "Weird." He shook his head. Maybe he had been rehearsing for too long. "Definitely." He said as he watched his arm rise up in front of his face, looking for all the world like a string was tied around his wrist. He tugged it down, but his arm immediately returned back to its position. "What the?" All at once, he seemed to lose control of all four of his limbs, stumbling and tripping over himself as he charged toward his bedroom door. He only just barely managed to get control enough to open it before he went careening out into the hall. His heart raced though he could not be sure if it was due to fear or how fast he was running down the hall. At least he was heading away from the stairs and toward… He stumbled into his sister's room, falling face first onto her floor.


"Whoa!" He pushed himself back up to his feet.


"You're not going to believe this but-" his eyes fell on the cross brace his sister held. She smiled and twiddled it and he found himself waving.


"Oh, so cool." She said.


"What is going on? How are you doing that?"


"Geez, your head really is made of pine."


"What?"


"It's a Pinocchio joke."


"What?"


"Yeah, I think this is for the best." She twiddled the cross brace and he slumped onto the floor. "Oh, yeah. Have a seat." She laughed. "I pulled you in here because we're gonna do some recasting." He sighed. She had begged him to let her be Pinocchio like a dozen times and he had remained firm.


"Mrs Montgomery said-"


"She said she gave you the lead because you're older. By like fifteen months! But we both know I'm better. Right?" She flicked her wrist and he nodded.


"Hey! How are you doing that?" She ignored the question.


"I'll be Pinocchio and you'll be one of the prancing ballerinas in the background!"


"What? No, I can't!"


"Why not?" She asked innocently.


"I... I don't know the part!" She grinned.


"I thought you might say that." With a quick twist of her hands, he rose shakily to his feet, twirled, and then curtsied elegantly, holding it for silent applause. How he had managed to curtsey in a t-shirt and basketball shorts, she had no idea. "But we've got plenty of time for you to learn, don't we?" She flicked her wrist and he nodded.


"But"


"Shh... here." She turned him around and walked him toward her bed. "You get your tutu and tights on, then I'll do your puppet make-up. After that, we can rehearse for hours and hours to make sure you've got it down pat!"


It took an eternity to get him into the tights and tutu, but she was nothing if not determined. Finally, he was wrapping the ribbons of the ballet slippers around his ankles.


"Hmm... That's a little too dexterous for this thing to do. You must really want this!" She wiggled the cross brace until he nodded and did a childish plié. "Lots of work to do."


"Please! I'm Pinocchio."


"Nope. You're a prancing ballerina." She grabbed her role card from her desk. "It literally even says prancing ballerina, if you can believe it. Look!" She showed him the card, but he only saw that she had crossed out her name and written his. He lunged, desperately going for the cross brace. All that he managed to do was end up on the floor in a mess of arms, legs, and tulle. "Up you come!" She navigated her helpless brother over to the mirror. "Let's start with the basics. No, let's start with something fun!" Down he went again, left in a heap on her floor.


There he remained, unable to do much more than wiggle his toes until she returned, wearing his costume!


"That's mine!"


"You already have your costume." She said, playfully posing in the Pinocchio costume. She picked up the cross brace once again and wiggled it, laughing as her brother helplessly ran through a series of ballet moves with surprising poise before settling in what felt for him like an impossible position. His arms were raised above his head, the fingers of his out-turned hands meeting in a point. He stood precariously on the very tip of his toes, but there was no pain, he realized as his sister came up beside him. Like invisible strings were holding him up.


His sister stood next to him, the hand with the cross brace hidden from the mirror behind his sparkly white leotard. He looked every bit like a prancing ballerina next to his sister Pinocchio. She held up her phone.


"Smile!" She laughed. "There! Send that to the play group chat and our roles will be set."


"But-"


"Hush. Don't worry your pretty little head about that." She plopped down on her bed. "Face it. I'm more of the tricky Pinocchio type anyway, aren't I?" Still holding the humiliating position, he felt his head nod. "Attagirl! Now" she raised the cross brace like a conductor's baton. "First position, second position, third"